Thursday, July 28, 2011


Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace. --May Sarton

To build may have to be the slow and laborious task of years. To destroy can be the thoughtless act of a single day.--Winston Churchill

I used to believe in the single, quick leap of faith more than the slow building of something with a solid foundation. In fact, in my leaps of faith, I would knock down anything I'd built in a single bound. Many of my moves were like that--I'd lived in far West Texas for four years, loved my work as a baker, had some other odd jobs, some good friends, a life I was building, when, within three weeks of deciding to move, I moved to San Francisco. It wasn't the worst decision of my life, as it turned out I had some severe health problems that were helped by the resources available in San Francisco, but it certainly undermined all I'd built in those four years. Every time I move, I'm curious about the new place, but within a couple years, I'm curious about the old place, the life I could've had.

Right now, I stand at a crossroads. I want to leave the city where I live. I would like to experience living in a foreign country. I've decided I'm not going to have a family, so I now I'm really taking stock of what I want to do. I want to live in beautiful places and experience unusual adventures. I want to perform on the streets of Europe and jump out of airplanes all over the world. I want to kayak on still waters, discovering birds among the reeds. However, I want to do this in a way that is planned, sane, and sustainable. I have the steps in place, it's a matter of taking them.

Today, I realized that I often thought that something was a God-thing, if it came to me unawares. For instance, I've been recently thinking about moving out of my house and someone called saying they were looking for a roommate, even though I'd never told the person I was thinking of moving. Even though the situation raised several red flags, I thought, wow, this must be a God-thing because I'm thinking about moving and so-and-so has a room for rent. My normal way of doing things is, oh, someone's offering me something, maybe I should take it. It could even be that I wasn't thinking about the thing I've been offered, and boom, I twist my thinking, "I never thought about doing that, maybe it's a God-thing."

Yesterday, I decided I was a person who took things slowly. Taking things quickly has not worked out for me in the past. I wasn't thinking about getting involved in a romance, and I certainly wasn't thinking of getting involved with the future X-man, and I used the not thinking about those things as evidence to make the argument, "Oh, it's not me, it must be God." God gets blamed for a whole lot of damage in my life.

I need to make careful choices based on my values and my integrity and the way I want to feel while I'm in the action of those choices. It's okay to want to feel a certain way.

Though I have desperately romanticized the leap of faith concept, I am now cherishing, the tilling and turning the soil concept. I'm researching, adding fertilizer, and planting what I will work for me--whether it's flowers or tomatoes, a parachute fund or a new luxury item--I will turn and consider and wait. And wait. And wait.

"The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper."

Bertrand Russell

"It is strange that the years teach us patience; that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting."
Elizabeth Taylor

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